“Good decision, Christian!”

Not entirely content with my weekend although it was a great one. Started Friday. Roof-party at our lovely neighborhood girls a few houses down. Managed to time a very closed nightclub and an incredible wet and unexpected rain-shower.

Saturday. Woke up and did shopping (sooo close to buy the famous $30 tees at Marc Jacobs, ended up spendnig $650 for cloth I don't need instead) the entire day with Fab, Ida and her husband Fredrik, who seemed to have a funny accent and I felt compelled to ask Fab the minute we were out of audio-sight from the lovebirds where it was from. “Finland” he replied and I said, “aaah”. I am literally numb against dialects and can have trouble distinction Skåne from Göteborg (see it as farmer/hillbilly vs. obnoxious yelling-wannabe-posh) and suddenly we sat at a Brazilian place and enjoyed a couple of Mojitos and Caprihinias on the happy hour. Wanted to go home and leave my stuff/shower and powernap. But went straight to their apartment and helped them finish their beer and champagne (they had won at an award show and were going back early, early on Sunday morning) along with Filip who were gracious enough to show up. Took a cab to Schiller’s for perfect dinner and many laughs. Lovebirds took the early train (how unexpected from a couple) and we took the bar-tour. I did my best to show-off by taking us to the only place we couldn’t get in to that evening. Fair enough, “bars are even better" I said and rescued the rest of the night. Got severely drunk, danced away and I hoped Fab would miss his flight. Failed and returned home.

Sunday. Met Jon and brunched away and walked and walked around West Village, did some more shopping (really good against your finance) and later met Barry and played ping pong at a bar. Got a very bad racket and the wrong side of the table as I lost 1-6. Humiliation following last Friday’s other humiliating experience by being brutally slashed in three straight ping pong matches against Pierre and Alex at work. So weird. It’s the only game I master including a ball. Blame it on the jetlag. Got home and realized I need to wash. Decisions to make: color or white first? Choked under pressure and went for color. Meaning. I’m still up, waiting for my white sheets to dry as they were last to be washed. Choir: doh.